A couple of weeks ago, I bought some mulch for the parish campus. There was a cat roaming around the mulch supplier’s office. While the supplier was writing a receipt, the cat tried several times to jump up onto its favorite chair. Finally, after reaching its perch, the cat fidgeted a while before finding a place to lie down.  

The cat’s gait and mannerisms betrayed its age. Like many of us, it struggled to sit comfortably and, like many of us, it was rather shaggy – with ragged tufts of hair sticking out here and there. I remarked to the supplier that the cat must be quite old; the fellow replied, “Fourteen years.”  

I thought of that cat when I read the Scriptures for this Sunday’s Liturgy. In the first reading, God promised to safeguard the reign, that is, the dynasty, of King David in perpetuity. In the second reading, Paul rejoiced in the mercy and forgiveness God revealed to the world in Jesus’ death. In the Gospel reading, God reiterated the promise of an eternal, peaceful kingdom for the People of Israel. 

The hope-filled and uplifting promises in those Scripture readings are predicated on something, however, that does not necessarily inspire hope. The hope-filled promises of redemption stand out because they stand against the background of a tired, worn, and weary world. Like that fellow’s cat, the world struggles to find comfort, and displays the telltale signs of advanced age. The world’s struggles and desolation, then, carry a hidden but positive value. The season of Advent celebrates the promise of hope made possible by the world’s fatigue. 

Advent is a season of waiting, but it’s not a mere exercise in willpower or delayed gratification. The interior of the church building was decorated early this year because Christmas will begin immediately after the Fourth Sunday of Advent ends. Consequently, you can see the tantalizing ornaments of Christmas, but they remain just out of reach today. As Advent still reigns here, the Christmas lights remain dark, and the manger scene is empty of its requisite characters. None of this is for the purpose of distinguishing ourselves from the secular Christmas mania that has been on display since Labor Day. Rather, we wait for the completion of Advent because we wait for the completion of God’s promises. 

Advent makes overt reference to the Savior’s birth, but Advent is about much more than Christmas. First and foremost, Advent is about the Lord’s return in glory. During this season we count the days before Christmas as a reminder that the whole world counts the days before it can receive comfort and healing for its failings and limitations.  

Certainly, the commemoration of the Savior’s birth deserves our respect, but the advent of the Risen Savior deserves respect to at least the same degree. In fact, Advent intends to elicit our respect in myriad ways. 

The world waits eagerly for renewal; even non-believers do so despite the fact they don’t recognize the source of the new life they await. If that supplier’s cat was given a choice and was able to make a choice, I think even the cat would wait eagerly for the restoration of its youth and vigor. The world’s desire for renewal demands our respect. In its somewhat broken and dysfunctional state, the world deserves our respect and the witness of our faith. Nor do I think it’s far-fetched to say that God awaits eagerly the renewal of the world. God desires nothing but our good, even though the perfection of that good is yet unrealized. 

There are these two distinct things, then, that we reverence: the world’s need and God’s providential care. These two acts of reverence are fulfilled in the same way: by observing God’s commands and giving credible witness to our faith. 

The weariness and brokenness of the world elicits God’s promise of renewal, and God’s promise of renewal elicits hope in us. During the season of Advent, then, we wait for something greater than Christmas; we wait for the Lord’s return. While we wait in hope, respecting and reverencing the imperfection of the world and the perfection that God promises, we have the blessed opportunity to give witness to the cause of our hope.  

The winter months in Florida provide many benefits. One of those benefits is the spectacular nature of winter sunsets. The beauty of winter sunsets derives from the decreased amount of sunlight during this time of year. Just as the spectacular nature of sunset derives from the relative darkness of winter, so the Lord’s glorious return is made all the more visible by our humble witness. Today, while we wait for eternal perfection, let’s take every opportunity to help the world see the coming of the Light.